The Fears of Friendship
by WildHorseFantasy
Summary: Right after Point Blank, Peter has to decide whether their friendship is worth all this trouble. But it's going to take a four legged help to get them communicating...No Slash.


*Disclaimer-No copyright infringement intended. I don't own White Collar, just trying to ease the hunger pains until january!*

~I know a lot of other people have imagined this scene, but I just had to write it. I wanted to do something to get them communicating again. I've left Mozzie in limbo and am assuming the characters may not know either. He could be missing, or in a hospital as a John Doe. (I refuse to think the d word!)~

**The Fears of Friendship**

The gun went off. He wasn't sure how, didn't recall squeezing the trigger. It was aimed at Fowler. The man who killed Kate. The man he hated. But it wasn't Fowler who fell, no, it was Peter. How had he hit Peter? Horrified, he dropped the weapon and leaped to his friend's side. Blood was quickly soaking through the shirt. "Hands up, Caffrey!" Diana snapped.

"Let me help him..." Neal stared in dismay into Peter's eyes, the look of surprised betrayal...

He heard Matthew Keller's voice as he was escorted into prison. "What do you know Caffrey, you have what it takes after all..." he motiones and several big, imposing inmates moved in. No guards moved to stop them as they came after him, they just looked on in silence. They would overlook the assault on the man who killed a fed...

"NO!" Neal Caffrey shot up in bed, heart racing, cold with drying sweat. He blinked into the darkness of his bedroom. It hadn't happened. It hadn't. He hadn't shot anyone, certainly not Peter. He gulped for air, fighting nausea. Something brushed him. He gasped. "Oh! Bugsy!" he realized, as a small wet nose pushed at his hand. What was that smell?

Peter Burke tossed and turned restlessly. He knew he was driving his wife crazy. But she said nothing. Clearly, she understood his anxiety. It had been a nightmare of a day. Neal and come within a hair of committing murder, after getting out of his anklet. He'd almost certainly tricked Peter into finding Alex for him. A wall of mistrust and hurt lay between them now. It would take a miracle for Peter to even keep his job, and as for Caffrey, he'd best enjoy his house arrest. It was likely to turn into the real thing. And then there was Mozzie...His phone rang. Peter grabbed it instantly.

"Hello" he snapped grumpily.

"Um, Peter...bad time...?"

"Neal! It's..., Peter paused, looked at the clock. "Two A.M."

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't think of the time..."

Peter rolled his eyes, noted the distress in Neal's voice. Elizabeth shifted and he knew she was listening. How could she not? "Are you okay?" He suddenly remembered the death of the shopkeeper and the situation with Mozzie and the video tape. But if the killer had come for Neal, he'd not be fumbling for words on the phone.

"Yeah, I just...woke up and...any word?" It was a quick change of subject.

"No. When I know, you'll know."

"Okay. Sorry I woke you." Neal hung up.

Peter let his hand fall to his side with the phone still in it.

"Go."

"No reason to go anywhere. He didn't really want anything. In fact, I think he forgot we were...I'm sorry I'm keeping you up though."

"He does want something. You. He just didn't admit it, even to himself."

"You got that from half a conversation?"

Elizabeth turned and smiled at him. "And your reaction to it."

"After what he pulled, I'm not sure I want him."

"I know you don't approve Peter, but you said yourself he hates guns. "

"And you talked him out of. You wouldn't be so mad if you didn't care. And he'd wouldn't be calling if he didn't care you were mad. He was probably as scared as you were and is only just now realizing it."

"I can understand the gun. I can't let him get away with it, but I can understand it. But I'm sure he tricked us into finding Alex. He faked that file, or slipped it in somehow. If I can't even trust him with that, not to tamper with the files...," he sighed. "He misused his position as consultant. That's one thing I can't afford to ignore."

"Peter, he may already regret it. Don't assume he doesn't. You haven't really had a chance to face each other yet."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go so I stop tossing and you can sleep?"

"I won't deny it might be a factor. But I'm concerned for him too."

Peter sighed, resigned and rose, dragging on his sweats and a t-shirt over his pajamas.

It took a few pushes of the doorbell, and ringing Neal's phone, before he answered the front door of June's mansion still in sweatpants. Peter blinked in surprise at the cleaning supplies in the disheveled young man's hand. "Little late for cleaning isn't it?" He followed Neal up to his apartment.

"Well, yeah..." Neal was subdued.

Peter wrinkled his nose in recognition of the unmistakable scent of 'someone forgot to let the dog out to do it's business.' Neal set about cleaning, which was another surprise. Had he ever seen Caffrey at anything so humble?

"What happened?" Peter knew it came out sounding ridiculous. It was obvious what. It was why Neal was dealing with it that he was confused about.

"I...Part of renting the apartment is walking Bugsy when June's out of town." Neal said matter of factly. I kind of forgot, with everything..." his voice trailed off. "Anyway, I'm under house arrest. I can't go outside, remember?" Neal's voice had a slight bitter tinge.

Peter glanced around, noticed Bugsy staring at him challengingly from the bed. Inscrutable, but Peter could imagine the dog saying 'Well, it's not my fault!' He smiled slightly, reached out and fondled the little animal. He tried not to stare as Neal finish cleaning.

Blue eyes finally glanced up at him. "What are you doing here? I said I was fine."

"You'd say you were fine if your hair was on fire! Fine doesn't call after midnight and forget what time it is. And after today, if you're fine, you should be committed to the psyche ward. Get dressed and let's walk the dog."

Startled, the young man looked up. "Now?"

"I'm here, I'm awake, and you promised to walk the dog."

"It's late, in more ways than one." Neal eyed the wet spot on the floor.

"And getting later."

Neal grabbed some clothes and headed into the bathroom, coming out in regular pants and shirt rather than his usual suit. "Okay,." He eyed Peter warily. "So what is this? I walk the dog and you walk me?"

"I guess so." Peter noted the young man's scowl.

They went out the front door and headed left around the block. Bugsy scurryed forward eagerly, straining at the leash. Neal held on, letting the dog sniff but not run into the road. Peter noted a common thought there, but held his tongue. Caffrey did not appreciate being compared to a dog needing a leash. A gaping wound lay between them, and Peter didn't know whether he should try and bridge it. He wasn't even quite sure he wanted to.

"So what happens now?" Neal's voice was full of challenge. As if he was the one wronged in the situation.

"You'll probably get thrown in the clink and I'll lose my job. Of all the bone headed stunts.."

A sudden shriek made them both start. A streak whizzed past and Bugsy charged after it. The blur slammed into Neal and made him stumble, fingers opening. The leash jerked loose. "Bugsy!" he yelled, rushing after the fleeing dog. He ran after, dodging a few cars and horn blares. He stopped cold after half a block, looking around in horror. He'd thought the day couldn't get worse.

"Bugsy!" He yelled again. "What was that?"

"Think it was a cat..." Peter called too "Bugsy come!"

No dog, not a bark or a whimper or a glimpse. Just asphalt, cars and streets. Neal's eyes were huge and he was even paler than before. "June is going to kill me. I mean really kill me!" He looked around again. Peter glanced around, looked under cars, concerned they would soon hear the squeal of tires and find a squashed pug. He knew how he'd feel if it was Satchmo.

A half hour of searching turned up nothing.

"Too bad the dog doesn't have a tracker on it too."

"It had mine for awhile." It was the wrong thing to say and Peter rounded on Neal. " And look at what you did with that freedom. Nearly killed someone, could've killed yourself... misappropriating FBI resources to get Alex to steal the box..."

"If you'd let me know you were going to do something to nail Fowler..."

"I told you as soon as I had anything!"

"You didn't tell me you had the box."

"And as soon as I tell you, you pull this! What were you thinking!

"I wanted him to know how she felt, how I felt. I wanted him to suffer too. What are you complaining about? I didn't go through with it!" Neal's voice rose shrilly and he waved his arms. But he didn't meet his eyes.

Their voices were raising, and anywhere but in this city they'd have earned a curious glance. They stopped and face each other, fury evident in their gestures.

"I trusted you, which is what you claimed to want and you threw it back and nearly hanged yourself with the …."

"RAR! WRUF WRUF WRUF WRUF!" Bugsy interjected, leaping up and down and facing them. He looked fiercely from one to the other.

The heretofore forgotten pug had their attention. They gaped at the little tan dog, at each other, and back at the dog.

"….leash." Peter finished absently, giving the dog a stunned look. Neal looked bemused, then his lip twitched in a faint, half smile. He glanced at Peter again and they both burst out laughing.

"Bugsy, where were you, you scared me half to death!"

"Oh, did he?" Peter gave him a meaningful half smile.

Neal frowned, grabbing the leash as an excuse to hide his face.

"So, when is June do back?" Peter cast about for safer territory.

"Couple of days."

"Aah." They could haul Neal back to jail any day, it might be unavoidable, which would leave them with an untended pug. Peter could guess who'd end up dealing with that.

"I didn't..." Neal hesitated quietly, and Peter eyed him thoughtfully. "I really didn't plan it that way. I wouldn't have planned it at all if I'd known you were going to..."

"You finally admitting you had Alex take the box?"

Neal shifted, strode a bit faster and pulled his hat down a bit further. Neal never confessed. So Peter was surprised when Neal said, albeit in a small, voice "I might've inspired someone to take it and return it to the rightful owners..."

He wouldn't implicate Alex. Of course not, he didn't turn on his friends. It briefly occurred to him this could be an issue if they were investigating a crime and it turned out one of his friends was involved. Then again, after yesterday, it would be amazing if either was in a position to investigate anything.

Peter saw an opening, decided to risk it. "Did you plant that file on the silver thief or just redirect it?"

Neal shifted, looked away, down, then back up, but didn't quite meet his eyes. His voice was husky "...forged it ...from NYPD files."

"If you'd told me, I might not have disagreed with the idea of finding a way to quietly return it to the Russians to draw him out. That part wasn't a bad idea. It's how you went about it...you violated my trust Neal." Peter was angry, as much at himself now as Neal. He'd known better than to trust the con man he'd let down his guard. Do you know how much it hurts to have a friend play you like that? You hurt me, my reputation, you hurt Diana...her girlfriend never did feel safe in New York. How do you think she'll feel now?"

Neal eyes stayed glued to the dog. Did Peter dare think he looked ashamed? It was safer not to hope.

"You've faced your victims now Neal. You've seen the other side, people get hurt by the con. How can you say 'it's about people' and that you care about them and enjoy hurting them like that?" Peter kept his tone calm, in spite of his anger.

"I...didn't enjoy it." Neal refused to look at him.

"Didn't enjoy outsmarting me? Tricking me into going your way?" Anger was creeping into his tone again.

Neal was definitely listening. He settled his hat, but his voice was sad and he still didn't look. "Not like that."

"Not like what?"

"You enjoyed catching me!" Neal finally retaliated, redirecting his angst. "You rub it in my face, threaten me to send me back all the time..."

"Yes. But that's when we were on opposite sides. I thought we were friends now, at least colleagues. We had a deal remember? This time it wasn't some little game of one up. It's serious. And I'm not trying to rub your face in it...okay, I tease some. You've always seemed to take it as I intend. But I'm also reminding you of what you have to lose." A touch of bitterness tinged his voice.

"I didn't mean to hurt you or Diana. I know you're my friend. I didn't enjoy it...and I'm not saying you're wrong, back then I would've." Neal was on the defensive now. And it was less Peter putting him there than his own conscience, finally pushing past the grief and anger he'd felt over Kate's death..

"I never thought you'd go that far. Not really. Not with a gun."

"I didn't really mean...the whole thing with the...gun." Neal's voice was still faint. He really did look ashamed. Peter racked his memory. He'd seen Neal bluff and con nearly every emotion. But had he ever seen him do shame?

El had been right. Neal had wanted to talk, maybe to make excuses or justify, but still, he was talking. Earlier he'd hardly been speaking. A silent Neal Caffrey was just plain unnatural.

"I just saw it, and..I thought I could scare him into talking. And then...well, I felt I had to face him."

"Neal, I saw the look on your face. You were a hair away from pulling that trigger. And it would've ruined you, whether he was guilty or not."

"I didn't...when I had him, I just thought of losing her like that. How she must've felt that last instant. How hard I tried to get her, how it felt to lose her. How helpless I was the whole time. And I hated it, and him for making me feel that way. And I felt powerful. Now he was the one helpless..." Neal shuddered, and Bugsy looked back at him.

"Scare yourself?"

"Yeah." Neal glanced at him.

"It's probably not true you know. It happened so fast, she never knew what hit her."

Neal closed his eyes. "You don't know that."

"I know killing Fowler won't really make the pain of losing her go away."

"What will?"

Peter sighed. "I know it's cliché, but time, Neal. And truth. Denying your hurting isn't going to make it go away. You can act like the cool con man, but I know you're hurting. "

"What happened to cowboy up?"

"A girl dumping you, or you being dumped in a sleazy motel because you can't afford anything better is a 'cowboy up' situation. Having your heart ripped out witnessing someone you love blown up doesn't qualify."

"You shot Fowler. Do you regret it? Did you really know he had a vest?"

Peter studied the city lights, took in a deep breath of early morning air. "No, but I'm very relieved he had the vest. He really was waving a gun, Neal. It was defense. And decking him, well, it may not have been legal, but he went after my wife. That wasn't a permanent injury I gave him at least. I'm not saying I'm proud of my self control at the time." He glanced at his friend.

"Would you really have shot me?" Neal didn't look at him as he asked the question.

Peter looked at him sharply. Cars whizzed past. They were nearly back at June's. His throat filled as he thought back to that terrifying moment. He didn't want to answer. "I think my reflexes would've kicked in, but. …, the only thing I can imagine worse than killing someone is killing someone you care about." Peter looked away, feeling sick, then back. Neal wasn't looking directly at him, but he nodded. His jaw was still clenched tight.

They were back at June's now, with a much happier looking dog leading them in.

"Do you believe him? Fowler"

"What he says makes sense, what with his wife's murder and his transfer to OPR."

"Someone...nearly conned me into killing him."

"Looks like it. He's probably a loose end. For all we know, they conned him into murder too, to get someone on OPR ."

Neal took his jacket and hat off, slumped in a chair and finally looked at Peter, who followed suit. His eyes were shining too much, and red rimmed. "Thanks...for stopping me." Neal looked him in the eye, for just a second, then away again.

Peter let that hang between them for a moment. "You're welcome. I'm glad you listened. So, how will you handle it when we find the next likely candidate for her murder?" Peter forced himself to hit Caffrey with it, forced him to consider the future.

"Mmmm." Neal just looked uneasy. "I didn't plan it before, exactly."

"I'll have to stop you, Neal."

"Even if..." Neal finally looked at him..."you've already lost your job?"

"Yes. I'll stop you for your own sake."

Neal rubbed the table nervously. Emotions flitted across his face, relief, fear, anger, and indecision vied for control.

"I don't know when it changed Neal. When I took you out, I know your agenda was finding Kate and mine was finding the Dutchman. But somewhere along the way, we became friends. Or I thought we were anyway. And if I'm protecting you it's because I know where the road you're on ends, and it's not a place I want to see you. Is that where you want to be? In prison for life?"

Neal looked up at him now. "No! I want...well, it doesn't matter now."

"You said you didn't want to run."

"I don't..."

"You just didn't think past getting to Fowler. Why doesn't it matter?"

Neal went silent. Hands folded, he looked down at them, then up at Peter. Peter was startled by the look in them. He'd seen his shields down when he was drugged,and when Kate was killed. But now there was a hopeless look in the blue eyes, totally alien to his usual attitude. The young man blinked rapidly, fighting tears. Bugsy hopped back off the bed and nuzzled his leg, with the uncanny ability of a dog to know when a human needed some affection. Neal picked him up.

"You don't have to do everything alone. You have people that care about you." Peter studied the younger man. He took a stab at answering his own question. "You wanted a life with someone you loved? There's nothing wrong with that. Don't give up on it. I know it hurts, but you don't know there won't be another girl. Good grief, most of them turn into a puddle on meeting you! And that's including the really good, smart ones, not just the immature fluff out for a good time. Just give it time."

Neal looked doubtful. "Moz said" his voice broke a bit at the name..."happily ever after isn't for guys like us. I'll always have to worry about people I care about being threatened by...people from my past. You aren't mad?"

"I'm furious. I couldn't be this furious if I didn't care about you to start with!" Peter gave the slightest half smile, balancing the anger in his voice. "And the only thing standing between you and happily ever after is your own choices and willingness to work for it instead of scam everyone. I have to worry about that too, believe it or not. You think I've never thought of what could happen if some criminal I put away might do if they got out and came looking for revenge? Why do you think I was so worked up to find you on my couch that first day?"

Neal blinked at that, lip twitched as he tried to smile, "You know...you knew even then I wasn't like that." He closed his eyes, rested his forehead on his fist. "Usually..."

"Yeah, but my first instinct was danger." Peter shook his head remembering his initial reaction, which had quickly gone from near panic to exasperation.

Neal sat, hands folded, mouth resting on them for an instant, glanced around, back, then "Don't let me hurt anyone, even if...I think I want to at the time." His voice shook. "Part of me...I want to hurt them Peter. ...whoever killed Kate, went for Moz... And I don't want to want to..."

Startled by the fear in his voice, Peter replied "Of course not!"

"I don't want to hurt you. Even by accident."

Where was this coming from? Peter wondered, then recalled the phone call that brought him over here. "What did you do? Have a nightmare that you did?"

Neal didn't answer, but his eyes tightened and he looked embarrassed. Finally, he muttered "I dreamed Keller congratulated me. Woke up in a cold sweat..." He tried to laugh it off, but it was too much. He was really shaken.

Peter smiled then, a real smile of relief. This was the Neal Caffrey he knew, the one just under the surface, but who he rarely admitted too. You had to look past the clever cons and his pride in them to see it. He got up and squeezed the younger man's shoulder. "I don't know what'll happen over this, kid. But no matter how mad I am, I won't give up on you. And I don't want you to give up on yourself. Even if I can't do anything but visit through a plexiglass wall. We've come too far for that."

Neal looked relieved. "Thanks."

"Think you can sleep now?" Peter was finally feeling pretty groggy. His eyes were gritty. He'd be lucky to get four hours of sleep.

"Yeah...what are you going to do?"

Peter hesitated. If he went home, he'd just wake his long suffering wife. "Maybe I'll stay the rest of the night." He rose an eyebrow at Neal, remembering how he'd been kicked out before.

Neal did indeed look a bit wary.

"You are going to need to walk the dog again in the morning."

Bugsy looked up and sneezed, as if aware he was being brought into the conversation.

"True. I should put him to bed, he's got his own downstairs."

Within half an hour, Bugsy was curled in his own small bed, and one was made up for Peter. Peter eyed the dog for an instant, thinking of Satchmo, before he turned in. Amazing how the evening had turned out. In the end, the only one who won the argument was Bugsy. He'd gotten them talking on that walk, as opposed to fighting, again. What was it Neal had said, right after he'd gotten him out? He'd reminded him that his and El's anniversary was coming up when Peter had forgotten. And he'd pointed out that relationships could be work too. And yes, he realized. His relationship with his wild young friend was worth the working for too.

"Remind me to bring you a steak." He said to the small dog.


End file.
